It cannot become more clear that I have an issue
of allowing myself to become an emotional hostage.
My desperation to find the soothing sensations...
The Shores of Affection-
nestled within The Bay of Bliss.
The charts in my possession are of little use
giving a false sense of direction.
Latitude and Longitude,
North, West, South, East?
The Stars are merely for dreaming...
and fantasy of a purer form.
Grass mowed too low parches the earth,
just as desire for something you will never get to enjoy.
Like The Pirates of the Carribean, unable to
even taste the apple- though masticating it's pithy... flesh.
Window shopping children, faces pressed against the glass-
parented by window lickers, sipping Traves Tea.
The largest element against me?
Not Typhon, Hurricane, Tidal wave
been through them unscathed.
Curiously, I Understand-
That element is me-
A Tsunami
MadPat Kiderm Sea Captain
written by Zachery Scott Polk
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